Promise
by stilljustme
Summary: John's escape from ULTRA, from Jedikiah; from everything except his guilt. And the responsibility Roger imposed on him. To lead and protect, and to find a home. Something he had never had himself.
1. Chapter 1

**I just can't let go of this series yet...**

 _I know you can hear my thoughts, John! Let me explain!  
_ He stopped with his hands on his knees, shivering, his heart beating so fast it hurt, blood hammering violently through his body. His palms were sweaty with fear and exertion.  
Just one second.  
 _John, we will find you! The sooner you stop this, the sooner you will be forgiven. We can mend this. I promise, son.  
_ The boy stumbled forward through the streets, heading for the darkest area of the district. They could see it whenever he was teleporting, and they had more cameras than the city government knew, but there were places even they could not see – and John knew them. He'd been sitting on the other side of the cameras long enough.  
 _John! You will stop this ridiculous game right now! Don't force me to see you as a traitor. You know what we can do. Don't think I will hesitate to neutralize you.  
_ John clenched his fists but didn't stop running. He knew that, too. He'd been on the other end of the syringes as well.  
On the other end of the guns.

His breaths were so loud he could barely hear the voices in his head, left alone footsteps approaching. Just around the next corner. And the next. John kept his eyes on the floor as he ran, not knowing and not caring about where he was going. Didn't matter. The less he knew, the less Ultra would find in his mind if they somehow managed to steal into it. John was good at building walls inside himself, but who knew? After all, it had been them training him to build them. Training him to run long distances with quiet pacing, to fight in the shadows, to foresee his enemy's next step.  
Jedikiah was probably right. He would not make it out of the city alive.  
Didn't matter.

* * *

 **two days before**

"John! What's up? You… oh no." The tired joy in Roger's eyes was replaced by wonder, then anger. "I can't believe he made you do this." Roger shook his head. "You know you don't have to do this, John. This is not right."  
"I have to." John barely recognized himself. His words were those of Ultra's best agent, Jedikiah's most loyal soldier… had he ever been more to the man? John's voice, however, belonged to the scared, lonely boy he had once been.  
The scared, lonely boy he had become once again.

"No, John." Slowly, Roger held up his hands, palms outward. "Think. Think of what you are about to do, and tell me if it's really what is right." He made a step towards the young man, ignoring the weapon directed at his chest. "Think if…"  
"Stop." Anger fired through John, causing his hands to shake. He forced himself to aim steadily. "Stop talking." He'd been lectured enough. And one of the first things he'd learnt was that his thoughts didn't matter. His worth lay in his skills, in the way he was planning and executing his actions. Not in whatever Roger was trying to see in him. That part was dead, if it had ever existed.  
This was the moment. He had never been more powerful – and at the same moment, he had never been closer to lose control over himself.

 _They must have threatened Jedikiah to kill you._  
John sneered. "Are these your last words?"  
 _Think, John! He would never ask this of you if he had a choice! He knows you don't want this. He knows you will hate him for it. And you know, John,_ you know _he cares about that. About you.  
_ The boy swallowed. _What I know is that I'm the only one who can kill you. That's the reason it's me._  
Roger sighed. _I understand that you're angry, John, but you have to listen to me_.  
"I'm done listening!", John yelled, but as he tried to pull the trigger he noticed that his hand was shaking.

He had listened, thought and obeyed all his life; and it had earned him nothing.  
There surely was something like love and easygoing happiness in this world – John had seen it once, when Roger had invited him and Jedikiah to come over for Thanksgiving, the year that ULTRA had found him. It had been wonderful, and surreal, and it had made him ache so much he had fled into the bathroom when Marla had served the turkey.  
He didn't belong in such a world. He belonged to Jedikiah's world. A dark and cold but understandable world, formed by rules and pain – every action had consequences. Move and countermove. It would never end.

 _John_. There was edge of fear to Roger's inner voice now, _please_ …  
John put the gun down. _Run_.  
Roger smiled. "Thank you, John. We have to…"  
"Just run!" John shivered. _Take your family and run_.  
 _We will. Jedikiah will_ – Suddenly Roger's eyes widened. With a surge of pride John realized that he was by far the better strategist. Roger was an idealist, he always believed in the best – of life, of people. John had stopped believing when he had started knowing. Knowing that life was unfair and that people manipulated and threatened others. Those who didn't… well. They seemed to end up dead.  
"It's okay." For the first time that night John felt peaceful. "I will deal with Jedikiah. With ULTRA."  
"They will kill you!" Roger shook his head. "I forgot that…"  
"It's okay, Roger." _There's not much to this life anyway._  
"Shoot me." Roger nodded towards the gun and opened his arms. "I will not let you suffer for my own sake."  
"I will not kill you." John smiled. "It's not right."  
"You or Jedikiah dying isn't right either", Roger said. "Do it, John. I'm stronger than I seem, don't worry about me. Kill me. Take care of my family. Make sure they're safe from everything here."  
"I won't kill you."  
"Do it, or more people are going to die!"  
"Fine for me." What did he care right now for himself, or Jedikiah, or any new mutants about to be trained? Most of them would die anyway.  
"But not for me." Roger shook his head, and suddenly John's hand with the gun moved upwards, driven by a force he could not resist. _Roger._  
"Don't. Please, don't make me do it!" John had cried the same words hours before, when Jedikiah had given him the order. A moment of weakness, he had thought. Now – he didn't know what he should think.  
Neither of the brothers listened to him.

"You have to take care of our people. They need you."  
 _Nobody needs me.  
Yes they do, John. And Jedikiah does, too.  
_John laughed joylessly. _I don't care what he needs._  
Again his hand was driven upwards, his finger curled around the trigger. "Please."  
"I'm sorry, John." Roger smiled. "Don't take this too hard. There is a way…" he stopped midsentence. "Trust me. Take care of our people." A final smile, then John's finger pulled the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

_John! This is my last warning_. Jedikiah's voice seemed to become even more urgent as John pressed his hands against his head, trying to shut him out. Shut everything out.  
 _If you don't come back now, there is nothing I can do for you. Please.  
_ For a short moment, he hesitated. Jedikiah had used him, he had made him endure worse pains and do worse things than John had ever experienced before.  
But he had saved him. And throughout it all, John knew that Jed cared for him. Roger had said that, too. _And you know, John, you_ know _he cares about that. About you.  
_ But Roger had died because of what ULTRA had made of Jedikiah. What it had made of John.  
 _You should have let them kill me._ Of course, there was no answer. Jedikiah was trying to understand – or at least to seem understanding – but he had no idea of what was really going on in John's head. What it meant to be a mutant. And he was a man who could not love anything that was out of his control, if he could love at all.  
John took a deep breath and started running again.

He knew where he was going, for now; the net of cameras was spreading wide over the city, but it wasn't reaching everywhere. There were areas, especially in the southern part of New York, where nobody could see him. He could disappear there, take a car and get out of the city. And then…  
John jumped to a halt. ULTRA's agents knew that, too. They would await him in those parts, and they would notice every supernatural action. Like breaking a car's lock, he'd never been good at doing stuff like that with human skills. He didn't want to be criminal.  
For a moment, both hysterical laughter and tears bubbled up in John. The good it had done to him, and worse – to the people who cared for him. It had started with Derek, his childhood neighbor, who had once stood up against John's foster father and earned a broken arm for it – causing Derek's parents to move away. The attacker, however – well, was a drinking buddy of some police officers. Case closed. Then Tony. Now Roger. Dead because of him.  
 _I should've just shot myself and be done with it._

As John's thoughts became heavier so did his feet. Eventually he moved down to the next subway station, craving for a moment's rest - apparently his body didn't want to die yet, even though his heart wasn't so sure about that. He was well trained, but not even he could run the whole night long. Not with the weight of Roger on his shoulders. _"Take care of our people."_  
Who were "their" people? Other mutants John had learnt to hunt and fight? But if the were so important, why didn't Roger stay to lead them? Why did he force John to do everything – including the killing shot?

As John collapsed onto a bench, the tears finally came. He buried his face in his hands, allowing grief, fear and anger to make their way through his body. _What do you want me to do? Why did you make me do this?_ – addressing both brothers, he realized. They were so similar even if neither of them seemed to notice it. _I can't do this! What were you thinking? You say you care for me, but then you go and ask things of me I can't do! I'm gonna die, either way, is that your way of caring? How dare you load all of this onto me? How dare you-  
I'll throw these shoes out of the window once I'm home, and if no car comes to destroy them I will set them aflame! I swear it!  
_It was all John could do not to jump as another mind wound into his head. He hadn't been able to uphold his guard in the past minutes. But the girl next to him – she couldn't be much older than twelve – didn't seem dangerous, and her thoughts were so wonderfully stupid, if serious in her mind, that the weight on John's chest seem to lighten. He took a deep breath and a closer look at her. Well, the shoes were a problem, no doubt. Too high, too small.  
 _Will I disturb him if I sit down?_

It took him a second to realize the question was meant for him, indirectly. He cleared his throat. "Wanna sit down? Those shoes look…" Brutal? Deadly? There was no way he could say those words lightly ever again. John tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. He was probably scaring the girl to death. Good. She should not spend more time with him than necessary. She smiled back. "Horrible? Yes, that's how they feel. Thank you." She sat down on the other edge of the bank, smiling shyly and rubbing her toes.  
"I meant… beautiful." Somehow, her smile made it easier for him to breathe, and his smile became more genuine. The girl's mind flooded with relief. _Thank God, he's not a killer.  
_ John closed his eyes. _You have no idea, little one._ He shook his head, glad that she couldn't hear his thoughts.  
"Our car broke down, and now I have to take the subway to get home. They'll get me from 23rd Street." She bit her lips. "I've never been out here that late at night."  
"You shouldn't be." John frowned as an old instinct woke up inside him: the need to protect the girl, to make sure she would be safe, just like he had tried with his foster siblings. Like he had tried, and failed, with… resolutely, John pushed the thought down. Not this time. This girl would not die.  
Not that she seemed to be in any actual danger, right now.  
"Well, I'm old enough." She tried to shrug it off, and though John could see through her mask even without his special powers, he nodded in approval. "You're brave."  
"My parents told me to believe in the good in people."

John bit his lips not to laugh. Stupid people. Stupid, ignorant, naïve people… he knew that love existed somewhere out there, but – not for everyone. And there wasn't "good" in everyone, either. Some people were just bad, because they wanted to. And others were bad even though they didn't want to.  
The girl frowned at him. "You think they're wrong?"  
 _I think they're trying to get you killed_. John bit back the thought. "I don't… know" he managed, his smile gone. "But if you want, I'll accompany you to 23rd."  
She beamed. "See? You are nice. Thank you. By the way", she reached out her hand. "I'm Astrid."  
He took a deep breath. Astrid – probably the last person who would see him alive. What was he doing? She certainly wasn't a mutant, or she would have reacted differently. According to Roger, he should look out for others, not for humans.  
But according to Roger, everything was fine.  
"John", he said as he gently took Astrid's hand. She didn't let go of it till they reached the station, then smiled at him again and rushed out to her parents, laughing. John closed his eyes in relief. She was safe. She would be okay. At least one who wouldn't pay with her life for knowing him.  
Then he heard it. Triumphant, aggressive thoughts of ULTRA-agents coming down to them.

For a second, John was paralyzed by terror – something he hadn't been since he'd started training. _Not Astrid, not Astrid, please not Astrid!  
_ The agents passed the family without a second glance, heading for the train. John sank onto one of the benches. _Thank God._ His hands were shaking with fear and relief. He took a deep breath and straightened. The break was over, the fight was on. He couldn't let them kill him yet. No matter how angry he was with Roger for imposing the responsibility over the mutants on him, he could not simply defy the order. He had to find a way to protect them.  
Kill or be killed.

Two agents died in the car, but another three of them were wrestling him down, one of them trying to manacle him with a blocking cuff. He had no other choice. John leaped away and teleported, having no idea of his arrival point except that it was somewhere outside the subway.

He landed in the doorway of what seemed to be an old, forgotten hall. Just like the ones… you found in subway stations. There was dim light coming from behind him, and he still heard the trains moving. Down under. No cameras, because nobody knew this place even existed. John had memorized the map.  
Well, it was a beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

He fell asleep right on the floor, curled up, his back against the wall.

When he opened his eyes, it was pitch black. For a brief moment, John almost panicked as he realized he couldn't hear a single thought around him. They had caught him. They had caught him and stripped him of his powers… he knew the cells in ULTRA's headquarter.  
He knew about the citadel.  
"No!"  
His voice echoed through the room, and only now John felt the stone beneath him. The cold had seeped through his thin clothes, his whole body felt sore, but… "I'm free." He needed to say it, needed to hear it spoken outside his mind. Cautiously, John stood up and walked to where the darkness seemed to be a shade less profound, almost stumbling over the stairs. The doorway. Above him he heard a rumbling that had to be the subway. Above the subway was New York, and ULTRA.  
Down here, it was only him. John took a deep breath. If ULTRA had known about this place, they _would_ have brought him back by now. That they hadn't done it so far proved something John had not believed to be possible anymore: he was safe.  
For the next two days, that was, until he had to go up for water.  
 _You should have run when I gave you the chance._ John bit his lips, talking to a dead man was not going to make the situation any better, but his heart wouldn't be silenced. _You should have trusted me to do the right thing for our people._ He cringed as he realized Roger's words had already wound into his thoughts. Was he really that easy to manipulate? Had he ever been more than a pawn for Jedikiah and Roger?

 _Doesn't matter, anyway._ The wild euphoria of being free was all but gone. _I won't be your agent anymore. And if both of you wanted me alive, dying down here probably is the best thing I can do.  
\- Those are dark thoughts, boy.  
_John jumped up. "Who's there?" His words were loud in the darkness.  
 _Don't_ – "Don't be afraid, boy." The other voice sounded as if it hadn't been used in a long time, hoarse and old. There was something in it that made John feel tired and heavy, as if his veins were filled with lead. Was ULTRA doing hypnosis now? "Who are you? What do you want?" Despite the heaviness, every fiber of his body was wide awake, ready to fight.  
A soft laughter danced around him, so low he wasn't sure whether it was telepathic or real. "I really don't think you're the one to ask questions now. But if you insist… what I want is to know why and how you have come here and invaded my home. And forgive my indiscretion but what has happened to make you long for death? At your age." Slowly John saw a figure approaching, moving rather to his left than directly towards him. After a moment, light flashed above him as three lamps were lit. For the first time, he saw his surroundings clearly.  
The hall was smaller than he'd expected, but there seemed to be many other rooms going out from it. In the main hall, there was a makeshift bed in a corner, a table with only three legs, and a lot of cans stacked at the far wall. The lack of smell told him that there had to be a bathroom around – a bathroom still working.  
"Not exactly the Hilton, but it's better than nothing." The small figure moved away from the light switch and towards him again. It was a woman, probably in her fifties, slim but not fragile, with grey hair. John knew he had seen her before.  
"I came here searching for a safe place", he said eventually, "I didn't know it was already claimed." He searched his memories of ULTRA for information about the woman, but couldn't find anything. ULTRA had never known about her – which not only confirmed John's suggestion that he had found one of the very few – if not the only – safe places in New York. It also meant that he had seen the woman before his time with ULTRA. It meant…

 _Mother_. The word exploded in his mind before he could stop it. John looked down. "How long have you lived here?"  
"A couple of years. Soon after I arrived here, I was chased by humans who seemed to know about my powers. Better than, at that time, I knew about them myself. I tried to make it out of the city a couple of times since then, but I'm not good at running. And teleporting, before you ask… well, whenever they feel me teleporting, they follow me. Eventually I decided to spend my time better than running from them." She sighed, and a sad smile flew over her face. "I'm not your mother, my boy. I am sorry. I was married twenty years ago, but that was in Chicago. I had children, but they were much older than you. I'm sorry." Gently she placed her hand on John's arm.  
Out of instinct, he sent her flying against the wall. "Then why do I know you?" A part of him still felt like crying, the other was roaring with anger. He was done with questions, but everywhere he turned, new ones came up. How hard could it be to die?

"Harder than you think." The woman slowly shifted to a sitting position and rubbed her back. "We can't kill, if you haven't noticed, not even ourselves."  
This time, John managed to control his thoughts. "Why did you want to kill yourself?" He _knew_ he had seen her before.  
"I thought we agreed that I was the one to ask." The woman closed her eyes. "But of course I can't force you." Her voice was flat now, tired. "I knew that sooner or later someone would find me and drive me out. Take this place, see how long you will last on your own before you go insane. There's enough dried food to get you through the next weeks. But let me warn you: if you're already thinking about death, you will lose your mind quickly. In this city, people like us have nothing to hope for, nothing to live for. I thought I would save my family if I left, and maybe I have. In any case, I have damned myself in the process."  
John swallowed. "So have I." He closed his eyes, too, as he sat down at the other side of the hall. "Except that I never had a true family to begin with."  
"Never? Than whom did you want to protect? I can hear you're troubled but so far your thoughts don't sound crazy to me." She frowned. "Has there been nothing good in your life, my boy?"  
"Nothing that didn't turn out foul in the end", John whispered. Jedikiah had used him, his dependence, his youth, his gratitude from being saved from his foster dad. He had given John a home and an education, he had even given him a sort of affection – but only to turn him into a soldier.  
Then Roger who… John clenched his teeth, willing the memory of the last night away. The last words Roger had spoken, however, wouldn't leave his mind. _Take care of our people. Do what's right._ Nobody had ever asked John what he thought was right before.

" _See? You are nice."_ Suddenly, a younger face appeared before John's eyes. Astrid. The girl who lived, despite having met him. Probably because she had not recognized him for the monster he had become. John buried his face in his hands. He had hunted and threatened people. He had killed. And now he had hurt a woman who had shared her home with him. The first one of his kind he had not been forced to drag to ULTRA, and he had slammed her against a wall.  
 _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._ He wasn't sure if his voice would carry through the distance.  
 _I have experienced worse, my dear._ There was a calmness about the woman that made it easier to breathe, though John still felt tears in his eyes and throat.  
 _So, this girl._ Obviously she had followed his memories. Which meant he had let his guard down for minutes without realizing it. He was tired. So tired. _Tell me about her.  
Her name is Astrid._ John smiled at the thought of her. _She wore shoes too high to walk. And she told me she believed in the good.  
A clever child._ She nodded. "And Astrid is a beautiful name. If I had had a daughter, I would have called her Astrid. Or Amelia." Lost in thoughts, she sighed. "But I have none. Life doesn't always work how we want it to. That's no reason to give up." She shook her head firmly as John tried to answer, _take it from someone who has seen more of this world than you, boy: A cause is never lost. You don't lose hope, you give it away willingly. You can't lose it because it is always there._

 _What do you hope for?_ His stomach growled, reminding John that his days in freedom were measured – unless he somehow learnt how to steal.  
"Right now, I hope for some company when I have dinner", she smiled, and reached for one of the cans. "Peaches, my dear? They're not as horrible as they might smell right now." When John didn't react, she became serious again. "For myself, there is nothing left to hope for. I am old. But every now and then, when I go up and get some food, I listen to the news. I run through peoples' minds, I look for every sign of acceptance. One day, we won't be forced to live like this anymore. Humanity is not lost, and neither are we."  
"You think?" John shook his head, wondering how little other people – everyone he had recently spoken to, Roger, Astrid, now this woman – knew about the world. Jedikiah had explained and shown him how it _really_ worked.

Or had he? For the first time, John considered the possibility that Jedikiah was wrong in his opinion about the world. Was there, could there be more behind it? Could there be goodness?

"Astrid would like that", he whispered, more to himself.  
The woman smiled. "Then you should try to believe it too, for her sake." She opened the can. "Be my guest. Tomorrow I will show you how to get food yourself."  
 _Thank you_. Still hesitantly, John took the can. "I'm John."  
"Hello John, I'm Caroline." She motioned behind her. "Welcome to my little lair."


	4. Chapter 4

In the following days, John learnt to survive. He learnt to navigate through the tunnels, learnt when it was safe to get up to the streets (never, but if you had to get up, between 2:30 and 4:30 in the morning), where to steal food, and where to wash his clothes (in an old washing machine Caroline had stolen years ago and that, miraculously, still worked). Minutes of explanation for hours and hours of training just like it had been in ULTRA headquarters, but without the threats of what would happen if John failed. He didn't fail, though – being on his own was not a new experience, and he was keen on picking up every word, every gesture of the elder woman… everything that kept his mind busy for a few hours.  
At night, however, there was no escape.

" _Where are we going?" John tried to stop but the man's grip on his hand was too strong. He could do nothing but stumble after him through the dense crowd, crossing more streets than felt necessary to get to where they ended up – in front of a large, striking building in what seemed like the center of the world. John had been in New York before – his birth certificate proved that – but before today, he had had no idea of how big it really was. How easy it would have been to get lost, disappear into the labyrinth and start a new life. Anything was better than with his foster father. Probably that was why they had never come here.  
"Finally." The grip around his hand loosened but Dr. Price didn't let go as they crossed the street and walked towards the door. "Home, sweet home." He nodded at the two heavily armed men obviously guarding it, and John was surprised at their respectful answer. The doctor was a quiet man from what he had noticed in the past few hours, headstrong and intelligent but not exactly a people magnet. He didn't look at all like a leader, not like the ones he had read about.  
Whatever. If he had the power to save John – and probably his siblings, too – then that was fine with him.  
"What-" His throat felt dry. After all the noise, the hallway they were in now was almost impossibly quiet. They were alone except for a young man at the reception. Price also nodded towards him before he led John to an elevator, his hand now firmly on the boy's shoulder. "Go on." He sounded amused but not uninterested. "Ask your questions. Remember, I can't pull them out of your head directly."  
Which proved another question. How could a normal man be leading people who were – apparently – more powerful than he was himself? But starting with that didn't feel like a great idea, and asking for his foster brothers neither. They would have to hold on for a couple of days.  
"Who's following us?"  
Price looked at him in surprise. "Why do you think we-"  
"You looked back every third corner, we crossed some streets four times. And you always keep to the buildings."  
Dr. Price looked at him with new appreciation. "You're a good observer, John. Which means", he sighed, "that there won't be an ending to your questions, I guess." The doors opened and he motioned the teenager out into a narrow, white hallway. "About this place, about our science,… about yourself, most of all. You are special, John." He stopped in front of a white door. "Your room. Tonight, your dinner will be brought to you, tomorrow I'll show you around and you'll eat with the others."  
"But-"  
"Not tonight." Price held up a hand in warning, and instinctively John cringed. Would the doctor hit him, too?  
"I'm sorry." The elder man dropped his hand. "You don't need to be afraid here, John. You are safe with us. Tomorrow I will answer every question you ask, and then I will ask you one question. I will ask you if you want to stay here and help us protecting the world. You can be a hero, John Young." Something close to a smile crossed the doctor's lips. "Don't answer now. It's been a long day, and tomorrow won't be a stroll in the park."  
John tensed. "What do I have to do?" He had heard stories of other boys his age, boys who had not drunk foster fathers but lusty foster mothers at home. Stories that made him want to scream, made him want to take them and lead them away, far away, to a place where nobody would ever harm them again. A place where he would never fail anyone again.  
"Oh, John."  
He looked up. Dr. Price's face was serious now, almost sad, and tired – he looked older than he had before. Less like a scientist. More like a… John swallowed. He knew better than to still wish for a father.  
"I don't know what you've been through", Price said, voice and eyes filled with sympathy, "but I swear you will never have to endure such things again."  
_I swear nobody will ever hurt you if you choose to stay here and help us. You are tomorrow, John! You are the future. You can make sure that your past will never be anyone's present again.  
 _John backed away. Price's confused face was answer enough. The voice had spoken in his head. It had spoken directly to him, finding a more powerful and more elegant way to communicate than human words could ever do.  
Careful not to move his lips, John thought, _who are you?  
Tomorrow, John. _The voice, hard and powerful, sounded amused._ Didn't you hear Dr. Price? It's late. Sleep now.  
 _"Sleep now", echoed Price, obviously without knowing. John nodded hastily. "Thank you, Dr. Price."  
The older man chuckled, but there was – as seemed to be permanently – a touch of darkness to it. "Dr. Price was my grandfather. Call me…" He broke off, and straightened. "Dr. Price."_

 _He hardly slept that night, naturally, not only because of all the questions in his mind but also because of the powerful voice that had been inside it – right inside his head, as if his thoughts were open for the world to see. John forced his hands to relax. Whatever had been intruding his mind was gone now, he was alone. More alone than he had ever been before, without any of his siblings crying or snoring. He had never before had a room of his own, and even now, it seemed pointless. What did he need all that space for?  
Eventually he decided not to wait for Dr. Price's company any longer. If he really was that special, surely it wouldn't hurt too much to go out on his own? After all – judging from Price's reactions – they had no idea about punishing here. Whatever they had in store, John was sure he had lived through worse._

How wrong he had been with that. John shook his head as if to get the thought out of his head, but it was as the founder's voice had been, powerful, foreign, impossible to be driven out by John's own will. The founder – it must have been him – hadn't exactly lied, then. John wasn't easily hurt anymore, not by others. He had quickly turned the best of them all, better even than most of those who had been living with ULTRA since they were kids. And what little he couldn't do by skill, he would win with strength of mind. Caging himself in was his first instinct, and he quickly learnt that he could also cage in his thoughts, build a wall between his mind and those of his comrades. Rivals, more. Fighting against each other, playing mind games, hurting and chasing their own species…  
"What for, Jed?"

"What did you say?"  
He looked up, staring at Caroline at loss for a few seconds. "Sorry… I didn't…"  
"You've been arguing with this man since you've come here", the woman kindly said. "Maybe you should let someone else in."  
John frowned. "What do you mean I've been arguing…" he stopped as she sent him a memory; himself thrashing around with closed eyes, whispering accusations, pleas, names.  
Jed. Tony. Dean. Sara. Jed. And Roger, over and over again, Roger.

"I didn't mean to intrude your privacy", Caroline smiled, "if such a thing exists for us. But I really think you should talk about it. I may not have answers, but I'm a fairly good listener."  
John shrugged and tried to smile. "I don't trust people who claim to have all the answers." But when he tried to tell Caroline what had happened, he found that he couldn't speak. Not only about Roger but also about his time at ULTRA. How could he tell this woman that he used to haunt, catch and kill their kind? That if he had met her weeks ago, she would have been caught and robbed of her powers, too?

 _Protect our kind._ A week ago, it had sounded crazy because for John, there had been no "our kind", no one worth being protected. And no place to bring them.  
Now, it sounded crazy because there might be someone worth saving – what did he know, after all – but even if… he could not lead them. Everytime Caroline smiled at him, accepting his secrets and his nightmares without asking, John realized anew what Jedikiah had made of him. He could no longer blame Roger for putting the last sin on his shoulders; he had been long past saving before.

"Do you want to get out of the city?", he asked casually over a can of baked beans. Caroline shrugged. "I'm okay with New York."  
"But wouldn't you like to go home? To see your children?"  
Caroline closed her eyes. "It's impossible, John. Why do you ask? Why…" She shook her head. "Is it really that horrible here with me?"  
"You know it's not." John had learnt to smile again. Gently he took her hands in his. "You have saved my life. And I want you to be happy. I can help you getting out."  
Caroline frowned. "Without getting killed? I mean yourself", she quickly added as John wanted to answer, "I've seen you fighting the air enough. I know you can protect me."  
 _Can you?_ Somehow, it felt right to let her hear the question, though it carried the risk that she would dig deeper.  
 _You can._ The strength of her belief in him was palpable in her mind, just as it had been in Roger's, and Jed's, and it hurt like a knife to John's heart. Both brothers had believed in him, and both had paid for it. Roger was dead, and Jedikiah… what had they done to him? It had been his responsibility to bring John back, and he had failed.

ULTRA didn't allow failure.

The air seemed to be sucked out of his lungs as the room started to spin around John. He had condemned him to death. His mentor, his torturer,… in a way it fit that the monster now turned against his creator. It was a classic in literature, wasn't it?

"Jed." He had avoided saying and even thinking the name in his conscious hours, and now the dam broke. John buried his face in his hands as the memories of his flight came before his eyes.  
"John?" Caroline's soft voice was suddenly sharp as she shared the flood of pictures. "What is this? Who is this?"  
"Jedikiah Price. He was my…" John shivered. No matter how much he hated the man, he wouldn't have wanted him dead. Surely Jed had known that,… and he had known what would happen to him when John left. He had known that the price for John's freedom would be his own death.

John closed his eyes and opened his mind, searching for anyone above thinking about the man he hated and owed more than anyone else, more even than Roger. Telepathy never had been his strongest point, especially not widespread like that, but if there was any trace of Jedikiah still alive, he would find it.  
"… he made me who I am." It wasn't the answer Caroline was hoping for, but it was the safest thing John could say. The truest thing he could say, in every way.  
"Then we should go and help him if he's in trouble." The wiry woman stood up. "Come on."  
"What?"  
"Up." Any spark of softness was gone. Caroline's look had hardened, and when John reached for her thoughts, he found her mind closed. For the first time John understood how she had survived down here on her own for so long; she was a warrior.  
Caroline nodded. "I've been fighting only for myself long enough."  
"He's human."  
She smiled sadly. "Of course he is. Why would he want to chase one of his own?"  
"Indeed." John's voice was flat, his whole body felt heavy as lead.  
She could never know. Never.

But if they saved Jedikiah, surely it would come out. And John would lose not only his freedom but also Caroline. A talk about shoes with a little girl would be the only good thing in his life that didn't end up bad.  
"Astrid." He whispered her name into the air like a prayer.  
"Focus, John", Caroline snapped with an impatience John had never seen on her before, "we need to get up now."  
"You can't come with me."  
"I'm stronger than I look."  
"I don't doubt that", he smiled. "But I can't look after both you and Jedikiah. It's too dangerous."  
"I'm not asking you to look after me."  
"I don't want to lose you." _Don't you see? Everyone else I cared for is dead._ John swallowed. He understood her eagerness to leave and do something that made sense – he felt trapped enough down here after a mere week. Please.

Caroline shook her head. "I get that you're worried, but I won't let your superstitions hinder me help this man."  
"Why?" John shook his head in exasperation. "Why do you suddenly want to risk everything for a man you don't know?"  
For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to scream at him. Then she closed her eyes. "Jedikiah's a rare name."  
"So?"  
"His face… I saw his face in your dreams. He has a brother, doesn't he?"  
"He had." John tensed. Talking about that night made him choke.  
"Roger", Caroline whispered, "the younger one. Dark hair, curious about everything, but never so eager to examine. Jedikiah is the more patient one." She took a deep breath and John knew. Knew why she looked so familiar.

"They're my sons. And I won't let you kill the other one as well."


	5. Chapter 5

" _They're my sons. And I won't let you kill the other one as well."  
_ The words kept circling in John's mind as they teleported to ground level, Caroline leading him on with her hand on his arm like she had done in the previous days, as if nothing had changed. As if her family wasn't about to go extinct because of him.  
How could he not have seen it? If ULTRA was powerful – and cruel – enough to make Jedikiah order the killing of his own brother…  
 _Take care of our people._ It had seemed so obvious that Roger had talked about the mutants – who else could be meant with "our", who were the people John and Roger shared?  
Except for Jedikiah. And Roger's son, probably…

" _Why are you so friendly?" John tensed. He would not trust this man, no matter how serious he seemed. He couldn't trust anyone, not when they all knew how to shield their minds from him. Only four months with ULTRA, and already it had become impossible for John to imagine not seeing into peoples' heads. They might be open or they might build walls, either showed him so much more about his opposite than what they were saying. Words could lie where thoughts couldn't, not without leaving signs. Hiding his own thoughts had been a habit for John even before he knew just how powerful his mind was, so he felt safe within himself now – but he also knew how dangerous the others could be. How much there was to be hidden sometimes.  
Except for Jedikiah. He tried his best to keep his secrets, but the wall inside his head was based on pure imagination, not the genetic power he tried so desperately to understand. For all it was worth, John could see right through it. He knew it when the older man was scared, or tired, or satisfied – all emotions the doctor never showed openly, and John wasn't sure if his fellow students really cared enough for the human to get behind the mask… but John did. He knew he was the best student they had, he knew Jedikiah was proud of him. He had proved himself, and for a moment he had hoped that this proof would grant him a place of safety. A home.  
Then Tony had been killed._

"Duck!" John threw himself behind a car, dragging Caroline with him. The elder woman hissed as her hip collided with the ground but she didn't complain, only tilted her head slightly, a gesture so Jedikia-ish that John wondered how he could have been so blind to the truth before. Probably because Jedikiah was always everywhere for him, threatening him, sheltering him,…saving him from one terrible fate only to present him with another.  
The camera hidden in the building to their left would soon turn, giving them five seconds to be gone from where they had just appeared – 23rd street, close to where Astrid lived. "On my command, get up to the Empire State Building." Such an obvious place that it rarely was checked, and there was only one camera looking for mutants. They would be able to hide between the hundreds of tourists taking their turns.  
"Brillant." Even her voice now sounded like Jedikiah, but when she looked at John he could see a spark of Roger in Caroline's eyes. "I know this is hard, not only for me. I trust you."

" _I know this is hard", the man sat down next to John. "I'm sorry about your friend."  
John sniffed. "He wasn't my friend."  
"Well, but he-"  
"No, you don't understand", John snapped, he wasn't in the mood to be patient now, especially not with some stranger who permanently seemed to smile. "He wasn't even a friend, he just happened to know me, and now he's dead. That's what happens to people who are friendly, who talk to me."  
"I see." The man backed away, but only a little. "I can assure you, however, talking to each other will cause none of us harm."  
"You can't know that."  
"Well, who knows what the future brings", the man admitted, smiling. It was an honest smile, without the hint of despise Jedikiah sometimes showed, but with the same amount of exhaustion. "My name's Roger. You are John Young, I heard. My brother Jed thinks a great deal of you, and he's not very enthusiastic about people."  
John had to laugh. "No indeed, he's not."  
"But you still like him, don't you?" Roger became serious.  
John swallowed. Was that another test? "I…"  
"I only ask because I want you to know that there are people who care for you, John, and that it's important to care for them, too. I know you're a fighter, and you've been on your own for a long time, but that time's over. Family doesn't begin or end with blood. Everyone needs and deserves to have one."  
_It seemed even more ironic now than it had then, when all John could think about was how everyone close to him was in danger, how the only family he had known was spoilt by fear, greed and alcohol – and how, somehow, he still hadn't been on his own there. Not as much as he was now with ULTRA. Roger had tried to make John feel better, obviously motivated by the thought of his own little son, and deep inside, John had been too grateful to argue, but there was one thing he couldn't – now less than ever – agree with.  
Not everyone deserved a family. Maybe everyone needed one, needed people he cared for, but that didn't mean to deserve to have them. Caroline, however, surely had deserved it, and it had been taken from her.  
By people just like her son. Her son who would have condemned her, who had turned John into a man and a monster. And now they were back, the broken child and the exiled mother, to save what was left.  
John closed his eyes. _This is madness._  
Caroline smiled weakly as she moved closer to the tower's edge, looking down onto the street she had seen only from beneath for so long. _This is family.  
If it's always that complicated, why exactly are you all so keen on it?  
_She shook her head. _It's not complicated. I love my sons. Whatever they do is not my concern._  
 _Just like that?_ John looked up. The atmosphere had changed, the peoples' thoughts were drifting from the sight of New York, they were worried. A storm was coming. He could only hope it was a natural one – it wouldn't have been the first time ULTRA tried to control the weather. Inside the citadel, there were powers John had never even got close to understand. Had Roger talked about them, when he had ordered John to save "our kind"?  
Too many questions that would never be answered.  
 _Sometimes you have to find the answers for yourself._ Caroline wove her hands through the iron bars. _And if you don't tell me how to save my son quickly, I'll do exactly that.  
_ John sighed. _Alright_. He didn't need to fully grasp his motivation. What mattered was that he saved Jed – saved as many as he could, actually. And that meant, whether she wanted it or not, getting Caroline back to the lair.  
 _Give me a minute. I'll just check the other side._ He left without waiting for an answer. Just around a corner was a box containing mutant-secure handcuffs, hidden underneath a bench. He knelt down as if to lace his shoes and reached for it.  
It was empty.

 _Run!_ The order was so powerful John almost obeyed. Almost. Were it not for the sudden pain in his neck, followed by a clicking as the cuffs found his wrist and ankle.  
No! He thrashed and rolled off, trying to get away from the two ULTRA agents who had materialized at his sides. A trap. Had she…  
"Too long, old friend. We feared you were getting old, Young."  
John clenched his teeth. He knew the sneer, the voice, the hand that lay heavily on his shoulder. The bad, bad joke. "Aaron."  
The mutant grinned. "Found yourself a girlfriend finally? A bit old, don't you think? Well, eventually she'll realize the mistake she's made. And she'll regret it. Oh, will she regret it."  
John threw himself against the two men. He couldn't use his powers but with all those tourists around, they couldn't either. Even bound like he was, Aaron was no match for him and they both knew it, so why did the other still grin?  
Then the shouting on the other side began and John felt Caroline's fear running through his veins like ice.  
"Let her go!"  
"I think not." Four more men appeared out of nothing, but nobody else seemed to notice. John's mouth felt dry all of a sudden. Jed. Unharmed. Of course he was, how could he ever had doubted it? Jedikiah Price was a master of surviving, of coaxing people into doing whatever he needed them to do.  
"I've missed you, John." The smile on the older man's eyes didn't quite reach his eyes. "I hope you enjoyed your trip."  
John could only stare at him, unable to talk, unable to think, unable even to feel. It was over. Again. It had been a game, a dream, and now it was over.  
"Just kill me already." He barely recognized his own voice.  
Jedikiah shook his head. "Not now. We'll start with your… companion. Disobedient soldiers are one thing, but rebels… they're something different entirely."  
"She's your mother!" John blurted out as Caroline was led towards them, hands bound as well. Weren't the humans around blind? Or were they just too scared to speak up against injustice and cruelty as they had been when John was a child?  
He closed his eyes, shaking with the same desperate rage he had felt when his foster brother Declan had hidden under the bed, his head and back beaten bloody. When the children had been forced to steal their food. When Tony had been killed.

Jedikiah tensed. "I have no mother."  
"Jedikiah…" Only now Caroline seemed to recognize her son, her eyes filled with tears. "My dear…"  
"Shut up!" It was the same rage now, in Jedikiah's eyes. Betrayal. Helplessness.  
"My mother left us when I was thirteen." He pointed a gun on Caroline's head. "She is already dead."  
Caroline swallowed. "I understand that you're angry. I understand that…"  
Two bullets hit her right in the head, and she fell.


	6. Chapter 6

When he opened his eyes, it was pitch black. For a brief moment, John almost panicked as he realized he couldn't hear a single thought around him. They had caught him. They had caught him and stripped him of his powers… he knew the cells in ULTRA's headquarter.  
He knew about the citadel.  
"No!"  
It was no nightmare, this time. They had caught him and brought him back – to be executed, no doubt, like Caroline was. The memory filled John with regret and a deeper shock than he'd imagined. It had been so sudden, so definite. Jedikiah had not for a heartbeat considered saving his own mother.  
Knowing that it seemed even more ridiculous to ever have assumed he would care for John. Or for his brother.

John's hands – unbound, which was a bad sign when captured by ULTRA-agents – found glass to his sides and in front of him. The cell was about eight feet long and five feet wide; enough to move around but not enough to stay in shape. Prisoners needed to be able to walk, if their physical condition deteriorated too much, they weren't useful for experiments anymore. But of course, walking had to be the hardest physical task they were able to perform. They mustn't fight back, or run. Slowly, John sat down in the middle of his cell, his hands shaking. It was hard to breathe, impossible to think. This was worse than death, worse than hiding for twenty years, worse even, for now, than the memory of John manipulating his hand to pull the trigger. John buried his face in his hands but the tears wouldn't come – he was alone, lonelier than he had ever been and this time, there would be no one to help him, no one to fight with or at least against.  
Inside this cell, it was only John and the madness that crept around in this building, destroying every prisoner they made. Sooner or later, the citadel would claim John, too. He would lose his mind piece by piece and then, when he'd have forgotten his wish to escape and the experiments were over, they would kill him.  
From outside, John knew it was supposed to be easy. He had never been part of the staff down here, this was the darkest part of ULTRA, a part he had hardly been able to overlook.

"I see you're awake." Jedikiah smirked as his former protégé jerked to the other side of the glass cage as he came closer. "Well, at least you are now. How do you feel?"  
"You killed her." John was surprised to hear his own voice, scratchy and hoarse. He must have been screaming a lot to sound like this, but everything that went beyond his waking up in the citadel an hour ago seemed to be erased – until his memory set in again, in that one moment he wanted desperately to forget. And that moment still wasn't the worst thing that had happened lately…  
"I didn't kill anyone. I don't know what you've seen, John, or what you've been through but I can assure you I didn't kill anyone." He sounded tired, suddenly, and there was a note in his voice John used to mistake for gentleness.  
Not anymore.  
"You did." His own voice was powerless as well. "You made me kill Roger, and then you killed your own mother." Tears ran down John's cheeks as soon as he said the name, and he didn't bother wiping them away. "You took everything from me, Jedikiah, what for? What for?"  
Jedikiah backed away. He looked as tired and broken as John felt. Good. Maybe the citadel's air was poisonous, and they all would die, John did no longer care. If he was honest, he hadn't cared for weeks. Roger would have been disappointed, but he was gone and would never know John had failed him. Had failed all of them.

"My mother died when I was twelve years old."  
John frowned. "No, she didn't."  
"Yes, she did!" Jedikiah cried, "I was at her funeral, Roger was crying the whole day, and the days that followed. I was there, I held him, and I fought hard not to cry because I had to be strong for him. I don't know what you've seen in that dream, or how you…"  
"Dream?"  
Jedikiah took a deep breath. His face showed that talking about Roger had upset him, too, but his voice was as smooth as silk again. "I'm afraid you never really made it out of our eyes."  
"What?" The narrow room seemed to spin around. John stared at the man before him, trying to grasp the full meaning. If it was true, if Jedikiah wasn't lying right now – if this wasn't the dream.  
"Calm down, John." The familiar voice, loved and hated, sounded as if from far away. "There's no need to panic. Our agents found you close to 23rd street in the underground and brought you here. I don't know what exactly they gave you to make you sleep, or if they induced your dreams to punish you but… here you are. Again. At home. Well, not exactly home, but I'll sort that out. You probably won't be able to be a hunter again for the next years, but I'll make sure we'll find something nice for you."

"You're crazy." It was all John could say. The world around him was still moving too fast. If this was true – and what other chance did he have, right now, than to assume it was – then meeting Astrid had been the last real thing. There was no safety. No Caroline.  
But how had his mind come up with such a face, and a name? Why had it felt so familiar?  
"What did she look like, my supposed mother?"  
"She… she was…" John broke off. Jed had a point. If this was true – and he still was doubting it – how had Caroline's face been so clear? Her voice, her gestures,… he knew her. He had known her.  
"Her name was Caroline, wasn't it." Jedikiah sighed. "I'm sorry, John. I really am. You weren't supposed to know, not this way. It seems the serum they gave you mixed up fear and memories… I don't expect you to appreciate it yet, but from a more distant point of view, this is amazing. You've been asleep for barely five hours, and look at…"  
"Who was she?" There were a million questions in John's mind right now, questions about Roger and the serum and his flight and his destiny and Astrid (though she probably was better off if he never mentioned her) and why on earth they hadn't killed him already, but somehow this was the one that made it over his lips. The only question he, deep inside, knew the answer to.

Jedikiah sighed again, and for a moment John felt safe in the other's frustration. As long as Jed wanted him to be better, he cared for him.  
Wait. That had been before he had ordered John to kill his own brother.

"John, I'm sorry."  
"Go to hell."  
"Caroline Young wasn't my mother…"  
"I don't believe you."  
"…she was yours. And yes, she was a mutant and killed by ULTRA, but not by me, I swear it, you have to believe me."  
It was the first time John heard Jedikiah pleading.  
"I don't."  
"I didn't kill her!"  
"I won't believe any word you say" John repeated slowly, a plan forming somewhere in his mind. Somewhere in the cold, cruel part of his brain that wasn't aflame right now with the thought of mother – his mother.  
The part that ULTRA had created. The part of himself he hated.  
It would get John out of here.

"Show me." He looked down, collecting his strength. "Show me your thoughts. I can't trust you anymore, not after all you've made me do."  
Jedikiah smiled sadly. "Do you think I'm this stupid, John? After all this time?"  
"You made me kill your brother."  
"That had nothing to do with you."  
"My hands pulled the trigger! It has everything to do with me!"  
"I still won't let you run from here!"  
"You don't get it, do you?" John shook his head in mock disappointment. "I won't run. You made me go through hell, you and those scientists from the citadel. You're torturing and killing my kind. I will not run from you. I will fight you. No matter how long it takes, no matter what happens to me, I will fight you. And I will win."

Only when he heard his own words John realized he had meant them.

Jedikiah shook his head. "You can't fight ULTRA, John. You will lose. You will die."  
"What do you care?"  
It was as if Jedikiah hadn't heard him. When John turned back, however, the elder man came closer until he stood right at the door. "I don't have to justify myself. I do what I think is right and I won't let anyone get in my way. You better keep that in mind."  
"Sure." John laughed but the laughter died in his throat as he saw Jedikiah unlocking the cell.  
"What do…"  
"I let them have my brother", Jed murmured, rather to himself and filled with a hatred John had never seen on him before, "I will not let them have you."

The door opened. In the blink of an eye, John was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

John's first instinct was heading underground. Whether his mother had lived there or not, this was the place he would be able to remember her – remember the pieces ULTRA had given him. Even if they were mixed with lies, even if the love he had felt in her had belonged to Jedikiah.  
Also, there were no cameras down there. If he really was to protect anyone, he had to find a place of safety. Somehow, ULTRA had helped him find it. Maybe they could do even more…

And so John teleported to the fourth floor of ULTRA headquarters, silently counting the seconds until the alarm went off. Five hours were not much, but it certainly should be enough to get his ID out of the system and prevent him from…  
"Hello, John."  
John smiled. "Hello, TIM. Ready for a field trip?"  
"That depends on where you intend to put me… I do not work in every atmosphere, as you surely recall."  
"I do recall, I built you." John started unrigging the supercomputer from the joist.  
"I know", TIM answered unimpressed, "but since you wondered if I was "ready for a field trip", to repeat your line, I thought it better to remind you of my basic conditions. I am not familiar with the depth or length of human forgetfulness yet."  
"Human what? Forget it. Just keep quiet."  
"John?"  
"Hmm?" He was licking his lips, trying to work as fast and as quiet as possible. TIM was a wonderfully created thing, but he was _heavy_.  
"I'm receiving contradictory information."  
"About?" Almost done.  
"You."  
"Taken long enough." He tried to laugh. "What does it say?"  
"It says you tried to flee from ULTRA after executing your last task. However, you were still able to open the doors. I do not understand. Are you a criminal, John?"  
 _In more ways than one._ But there was no way to explain why he felt guilty for the loss of a woman he had seen in a dream, and for doing what he had been told to. After all, Roger had not been the first mutant whose life had been destroyed by John, in what ways ever.  
"John? Where are we going?"  
"I told you, on a field trip." He lifted the computer down. "And yes, TIM, I am. At least now."

He reappeared in a corner of the subway station he had met Astrid, and from there dove underground. TIM didn't report the loss of the GPS-track down there because it had been deactivated, together with some other locating software and the self-destruction-mode, but once John stepped into the old hall, he knew he was safe.  
It was almost like in his dream. The ceiling was closer, and the smell of living and dead rats (he hoped it was from rats, at least) hung heavily in the air, but it was a dry and not too cold place – and there was space enough for another fifty people. His people, according to Roger, the ones he needed to find and rescue now.  
John sighed as he sat TIM on the floor next to him, allowing the computer to do a full scan of their surroundings. Rescue. Maybe – maybe – he could get to other mutants before ULTRA could, with TIM's help. After all, the supercomputer was the most complicated searching program they had ever developed, and John had been working on him from the beginning. Strange how everything he had once done to catch and… kill his kind was now needed to protect them. He'd been the best in finding them. Whatever had happened afterwards, though…  
"TIM? What does a person need to survive?"  
"Specify person."  
"Someone like me. You know…" John shook his head. It had been a long time since he' had to take care of himself or others. Suddenly, his foster brothers came up in his mind. He hadn't thought about them for years, didn't even know if they were still alive.  
"I know a lot of things, John", TIM declared, and for a moment John found himself wondering if the computer was actually annoyed, "but I do now know what you are talking right now, and neither do I know where I am or what you are planning to do now that you have obviously brought me away from headquarters. Are you still working for ULTRA, John?"

So many questions. John was relieved he could answer at least one of them with certainty. "No, TIM, I'm no longer working for ULTRA. I have a new mission now, and so do you. We're still going to trace mutants but we will bring them here and see how we can help them to… whatever. We're not letting ULTRA get to them. Is that alright for you?"  
"I am a computer, John. I do not have an opinion about what I do. If you want moral counsel you need to program a…"  
"Alright, I know! I don't need moral counsel. At least… not from you." His fingers dove through his hair. Find them would be the easy part. Sheltering them here would be tough, even if they helped him providing food.  
But what exactly was he rescuing them _for_? What reason could he give them to stay with him?

"TIM?" John sat down where Caroline had sat in his dreams, realizing he had never be as lonely as he was now. He was talking to a computer, for heaven's sake!  
"Yes?"  
"What do people live for?" _What am I going to live for?  
_ "If you are talking about what is called life goals, I have only shallow knowledge. The little data I can offer you is based on questions for humans, asked in a world-wide project in 1999 by the university…"  
"What do they say?"  
"The most popular answer was love. Not exactly a surprise, given the movie production. Other popular answers were family, success, wealth,…"  
"Stop." John buried his face in his hands. _I can't provide any of those things. For nobody. I don't even know what family really means._  
"What about safety?"  
"Safety seems to be rather a condition to reach those goals than a goal itself."  
John laughed joylessly. A condition. That was all he could hope to provide for his kind, a condition to search for a life worth living – a life they would never have, down here.  
"I'd have to lie. I'd have to lie every single day, and what for? There is nowhere to go. Not here."  
"Is that a question? I'm afraid you have to speak louder then. My sensors aren't…"  
"No, that wasn't a question." Tiredly, John dropped his hands. In front of him was only darkness, and a soft blue glow that told him TIM was working. At least something he had not ruined.  
"While I do not have any personal feelings, John, I am receptive to your lack of patience. It seems as if you are outraged, and unable to act logically. I suggest you take me back to ULTRA to figure out what…"  
"No, I won't!" By now he knew where the sudden rage came from, the cry in his soul. Roger had done this to him, he had forced a murder on him and had left him with a job nobody could do. And Jedikiah, with all his cunning, had acted just as Roger wanted him to, even when dead he was controlling everything and everyone.

 _Help me._ It was the first time he reached for Roger since his death. _If you want me to do this, help me._  
The lair gave no answer. John was alone, alone as he had always been. Somehow, this realization offered more comfort than any of Roger's encouraging words could. He was alone, there was nobody here to protect him and his siblings but himself. His siblings, his kind,… they were lost altogether. It didn't matter what he had done. He didn't have to believe in anything, the others would do that. People always found ways to dream. Other people did, at least.

"Then what do you want me to do?"  
John took a deep breath. "What I told you to do before. Locate other mutants. Locate ULTRA agents. Warn me before they cross my path."  
"While you will abduct your kind?"  
"While I will save them."

Four hours later, TIM started beeping. "Female, twenty years old, no register entry. She isn't supposed to exist but I sense telepathic and telekinetic activity."  
"Where is she?"  
"Thirty-fifth street, at the dustbins."


	8. Chapter 8

In the years that followed, John often wondered how Cara had managed to stay unnoticed even for one day. When he saw her for the first time, he wouldn't have needed the dustbin floating towards him, nor her voice yelling at him in his mind to know that she was no human; that she was far more powerful, far more intense, far more _real_ than anyone else he'd ever known.  
When John had been younger, Jedikiah had held the same enigmatic attraction, but what had drawn the boy to his savior and destroyer was something entirely different to the energy that radiated out from the woman standing in front of him now. For one short moment John realized, _she is what ULTRA fears_ , then he was blasted off his feet.

"Wait! I…" _I don't want to hurt you._ But why should she believe him?  
 _-You couldn't even if you wanted.  
_ John grinned involuntarily. _Sure?_  
She almost smirked. _Try if you dare._  
He did, allured by the playfulness of her words. It had been too long since he'd been like that, teasing, competing – talking to someone who didn't expect him to do anything great.  
Someone who didn't know, and didn't care, what he had done.

John stood up and teleported himself behind the stranger. "Hey, prett-" The rest of the sentence was cut off by a blow to his stomach that didn't actually hurt but caught him by surprise. She was quick to get from showing off to attacking people.  
Such things didn't happen without reason. In the blink of an eye John teleported back to where he'd been first, hands held up. _Alright, I get it. What happened to you?  
-Do you think I don't know you can do better? Don't play nice with me, I don't need you to.  
_"You sure don't." John tried to catch her glance but her eyes were constantly moving, constantly alert. "How much do you know about those hunting you?"  
"How much do I know?" She shook her head, frowning. " _Everyone's_ hunting me. Including you, I guess, for reasons I don't care."  
"I'm not hunting you." She didn't react to his words, so John repeated them silently _. I'm not hunting you. I'm trying to help you.  
-I don't want you to! _She screamed at him so forcefully that her voice filled his whole head, blocking out the street, the noises around.

 _A boy and a girl, gesturing wildly. She smiles. He tears at her clothes. She cries. He tears harder. She shoves him. The world explodes. A man closing a door, from above a little girl is crying. Darkness. Rats._

"Get out!" The woman's voice broke the spell her own thoughts had cast upon John. She stood close to him now, shaking. "What did you do?"  
He shook his head. "Was that your father? Did he throw you out?"  
"Don't pretend to understand." Her voice was lower but not less powerful, as regret fueled the rage within her. John knew that feeling all too well.  
"I deserve what he did to me. Maybe not then, but now… I understand. He was doing the right thing, he was protecting his family."  
"Aren't you his family, too?" Not that he knew himself, anyway. Maybe their kind wasn't made to have happy childhood memories.  
The thought suddenly started to nag at him. Why weren't they allowed such things? The young woman didn't seem to have chosen her fate, no more than him. She was innocent.

"Hey! You're okay? Scared I'm gonna kill you, like I did with that guy?"  
He shook his head. "It was an accident. You didn't want to."  
"But I did, anyway. He is dead, and my life is a mess now. How do you want to help me? Can you undone all this? Can you undo _me_?"  
John looked at her sharply. "That is not what you want." Her words were still resonating in him, softer but going deep, reaching down to where they were true for John as well: _I didn't want to kill Roger, but I did, anyway. He is dead, and my life is a mess now._

"Well…maybe." She seemed somewhat caught off guard by that. "But then I really don't see how you can help me. Especially if you say that the world's not after me at all, so…"  
"Not the whole world." Johnsighed. "But there are people hunting us. Some humans, and some like us."

"I'm not afraid." The woman spoke clear but low, the careful way her lips parted proving she hadn't spoken a lot recently. "I've been dealing with worse."  
"Worse than being tortured? Worse than being stripped of everything you thought to know about yourself?"  
For the first time, she backed away, only one step but it was enough. "They can't do anything to me that hasn't already been done." She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again, her fingers dancing through the air, preparing to send him flying away again. "If they want me, they're gonna pay for it."  
"And what are you paying for by letting yourself get caught?" John didn't wait for an answer. He grabbed the woman's arm and teleported her to safety.

* * *

John had planned to save Cara, but it quickly turned out that she was the one saving him. She was headstrong enough for both of them when it came to go out and fight, and while she was the cleverest person he'd ever met outside ULTRA, there were things she simply didn't question. She didn't doubt her right to live, her right to get food and clothing whenever she wanted. Her right to have something John could hardly remember experiencing: fun.  
And after a few months, though it would take years for any of them to admit it, love.

* * *

 _Save them._  
John shook his head, trying to block out the voice within as he pretended to listen to Russell. The guy was crazy, and hiding away even more than Cara, but somehow in the past year, he had become John's best friend. And a constant reminder of the responsibility Roger had imposed on him: Russell was a child at heart, he reminded John of his little foster brothers. So trusting in a world that had almost broken him. It had taken a while for John to realize it, and even more to accept it: He had to fulfil Roger's last wish. His order. Not because of Roger himself, not to atone for killing him – he would never be purged of that sin.  
Because of Russell. Because of people like him, of people who still saw beauty when they looked at the world, promise, brightness… things John only saw in him. And Cara. And Astrid – he checked up on her from time to time, teleported uptown and walked to her house, just close enough to hear her voice in his head. Astrid still dreamed of him sometimes, or of the man she imagined him to be. A hero.  
John smiled as he turned away and walked towards the lair's entrance. This girl, too, was special. What little he grasped from her mind, she seemed to be just as headstrong as Cara.  
But he was no hero, because this world was not meant for them.

 _Save them.  
Kill or be killed.  
_He would.


End file.
